


You're Missing The Moment, Dean

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fallen Castiel, Falling In Love, First Time, Human Castiel, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean didn't even know how it happened. Okay, yeah, he knew <em>how</em> it happened but he didn't have a clue of why. Fuck. How. Well, you start with the adrenalin after a hunt and a case of beer. Then you add a newly human Castiel mouthing off about being coddled and not allowed to fight the way he knew he could. Finally, you add Dean drunkenly screaming at him in incoherent phrases about leaving all the time and never listening to him. One pushed the other. A wicked right hook to a jaw.... Then it all got murky.... Now Dean's woken up naked with Castiel just as naked and he doesn't know what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Missing The Moment, Dean

Holy shit.

_Holy shit_.

Dean awoke to the foreign sensation of weight on his chest. Body weight. The dark brown hair smashed under his chin, the octopus arms and legs surrounding him, the distinct skin-to-skin contact ... fuck.  _Fuck_.

He didn't even know how it happened. Okay, yeah, he knew  _how_ it happened but he didn't have a clue of why. Fuck. How. Well, you start with the adrenalin after a hunt and a case of beer. Then you add a newly human Castiel mouthing off about being coddled and not allowed to fight the way he knew he could. Finally, you add Dean drunkenly screaming at him in incoherent phrases about leaving all the time and never listening to him. One pushed the other. A wicked right hook to a jaw.

Then it all got murky. Dean's aggression shifted and so did Castiel's, boiling rage at not having the right words or the balls to say ...  _fuck_. He had no idea how it happened. Ripped clothes, furiously shoving and hitting each other, yet burning, possessive kisses happened in between. Something snapped in Castiel and all too suddenly, Dean found himself thrown on the bed and--

_Holy shit_.

The worst part of it all, not that Dean knew much about men sleeping together, was that he'd been the bottom and he was pretty sure that meant he was the chick. A hunter that killed thousands of monsters over the years and nailed so many gorgeous women being the  _bottom_? But damn it, he'd wanted it. He'd begged in raspy, strained breaths.

And then they did it again. And a third time.

One instance could be called a fluke, sure. An accident brought on by a case of beer. Why not? But by the third lazy pace of lovemaking somewhere around four a.m., Dean was entirely sober. He knew what he was doing. He had wanted it.

Now in the harsh early morning light, he didn't know what the fuck happened or who he was for thirty-five years.

"Dean..."

His body jerked, surprised.

"You're missing the moment."

"What?" he croaked. "How'd you know I was awake?"

"I felt your body go tense." The octopus adjusted, an arm tighter around Dean's waist, and a leg hiked up over his thighs. "You're missing the moment. Stop over-analyzing and just be." When Dean's body refused to relax, he continued, voice thick with sleep. "You're better than getting hung up on human stereotypes of masculinity and gender roles. You were happy and alive until you started over-thinking it. Just be. You're missing the moment."

"This wasn't s'posed to happen," Dean whispered, oddly emotional.

"No, it wasn't. But it did. Here we are. What are we going to do about it, Dean?" He sounded more awake then but the octopus didn't move.

An enormous sigh heaved Dean's chest and his one free hand rubbed his eyes. The problem was during the cover of night, certain they were alone, he  _was_ happy and alive. He trusted. Fuck if he didn't trust that new human with the octopus limbs as he slept.

Castiel's head lifted from Dean's chest. Blue eyes studied green and his patience, his self-possessed strength, his angelic ability to love wholly without regret filtered through his gaze. That sense of unconditional acceptance scared the shit out of Dean, yet he found it addicting. He was still a badass hunter no matter who he went to bed with at night. Right? Working through it exhausted him.

"Just be, I guess," Dean eventually said. "Stop missing the moment."


End file.
